When He Wakes, They'll Dance
by Eh-merica
Summary: Drabble After a terrible accident Alfred is left with little of his memory and Matthew has yet to wake up, but Alfred knows that he'll wake up. Eventually. Fluff and cheesiness. Pure fluff and cheesiness. Also written at 4:00 a.m. so there's bound to be a few mistakes. * AmeCan/CanAme *


**When He Wakes, They'll Dance**

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><p><strong>AN: Whoops 4:00 a.m. drabbles. This is crap, and I'll probably regret uploading it in the morning. Or the next few hours of this morning? This afternoon? Whatever, I'mm probably regret it when I wake up... So essentially this is just a pplot bunny and I wanted to get it off of my mind, so here it is. Please be gentle I'm sure that I'm not even trying on this ahhh 3**

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><p>"He'll wake up."<p>

Alfred could almost feel his skin buzzing and tingling with excitement. He could just imagine, swinging Matthew around to the fast beat music, watching a fair-skinned boy laugh and smile, a blush spread across his face like it always was when he was with Alfred. It was a beautiful thing really, dancing in unison with his boyfriend, not caring about a thing, not worrying about the future, bills, adult responsibilities, or anything else really. Just dancing and smiling until his cheeks hurt.

Of course things couldn't stay like that forever. The song had to end, and the excitement of the first swing would buzz down. The goosebumps would disappear and the small hairs on the back of their necks would rest down back in to place. Of course that had happened. It had to, it was only a matter of time.

Alfred could hardly remember how it all had happened. In fact he didn't remember much at all… He remembered Matthew, of course… And he remembered nodding off. Then the screeching of brake pads and the sharp smell of burning rubber, then a crunch, a metallic crunch. After that it got hazy… There were lights after that… (At that point the couldn't tell if they were the lights that the people in movies screamed at their loved ones or friends not to go towards or the lights of an ambulance.)

He himself then woke up, his body stiff and cold. His head clearly been shaven, operated on, and then stitched and stapled back up tightly, finishing with a cliché white bandage wrapped around his forehead. When the people started coming to visit, he had only recognized a few. Sure, he recognized Arthur and Francis. _Recognized _them, but didn't remember much about them. The other two (an albino with a thick German accent and a Dane with _amazing _hair) that had claimed to be his best friends, he didn't recognize at all. He had no memory what-so-ever. But he remembered Matthew, and he remembered dancing with him. Now where was Matthew exactly…?

He had eventually found out that Matthew was in a similar situation as himself, only he didn't wake up, the trauma he had sustained to his head during their wreck was quite a deal worse than Alfred's… And he was in a coma. He didn't wake up. This had saddened Alfred, learning that the only one he knew fully and had memories of wasn't awake, and was in a coma that he possibly wouldn't wake up from. But Alfred believed Matthew would wake up eventually. He explained it like Matthew was just exhausted from the wreck and surgery and was simply getting his rest, and that he should take his time.

Once Alfred had mostly healed, and was able to move on his own again, the doctors had complied to his requests. Though his memory was still askew they'd let him sit in Matthews room day in and day out, playing the familiar swing music in hopes of Matthews eyes fluttering open and look to Alfred. Alfred _knew _that it would happen. Matthew would look to Alfred, smiling softly as the blush would appear on his pale face again. Memories of Matthew's blush accompanied with his smile always made Alfred smile… Oddly enough a nurse would always walk in, catching Alfred's increasingly rare smiles.

"Is today the day Alfred?" They'd ask, changing Matthews bandaging and getting him new fluids in a drip bag to keep is body hydrated.

Alfred would smile more and nod, leaning against Matthews hospital bed, folding his arms and resting his head atop of them. He'd stare up at Matthew, eyeing his pale, dry skin. The bags under his eyes heavy and dark, his lips terribly chapped.. Yet every time he looked to Matthew he'd still find beauty. The small dash of freckles across his nose, his hair still seeming to keep its golden color, and the small rise and fall of his chest. Letting Alfred know that Matthew was still in there, and he way alive. That was beautiful.

After a few minutes of silence Alfred would look to the nurse and nod. "Oh yeah… Today's the day! He'll wake up." He's become incredibly familiar with this phrase. He'd been saying it everyday for almost a full year now, and it'd become a bit of a routine for him and the nurses. Even though there was that small twinge of doubt in the back of Alfred's mind every time he said "He'll wake up," he knew that Matthew would eventually. Matthew was special, and had to much to live for.

Alfred _knew _that Matthew would wake up. When he wakes up, they'll kiss. Alfred will ask Matthew to marry him, he'll say yes. After that they'll start a family... Adopt a few kids, maybe get a dog… They'll take their children to their football games, dance recitals, art shows… Whatever their little hearts wanted to do… When he wakes up, they'll live with each other, say good night to each other at each sun set and good morning to each other at each sun rise. Together they'll love each other until they're old and grey, and possibly after that, when they'll watch over their children from above.

Most importantly, when he wakes, they'll dance. And when they dance, the blush, the goosebumps, and the excitement will return.


End file.
